


The Last Goodbye

by Marwana



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 08:33:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4256571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marwana/pseuds/Marwana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had left the life as a telepathic headmaster of a school filled with mutants behind three years ago after he had been forced to repress part of himself. Now, two of the most important persons in his life have come for him. To ask him to return to that world of a repressed life. But not all those who wander are lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own the rights.

It had been over three years since he had left the school – his former house and home – and the people he had once considered his friends and family behind. It had hurt to do so, but it would have hurt him more to stay behind and be forced into living in something that didn’t feel real to him.

**oOo**

It had all started when both Raven and Erik had returned; a slightly apprehensive Raven first and a rather sullen Erik a couple of months after her. He had already started with the rebuilding and restarting of his school – the first students had arrived just before Raven had returned – and he had been more than happy to have both of them back. Not just because he could use the help, but also because they were – had been – the two most important people in his life after Hank. Hank would always have that spot as he had been the one person to stick with him and help him even if it went against his own morals and meant he had no way of doing what he wanted to do. But he had sent Hank away to do what the younger man had always _wanted_ to do and he had welcomed the help Raven – and later on Erik – had provided.

It had gone well for a couple of months in which both of them had told him maybe two times to stay out of their heads, and both times had been genuinely his own fault. But after a couple of months paranoia seemed to have worked its way into them both and they started to demand more and more that he stayed out of their heads up until the moment he couldn’t even ask if they were alright without getting shouted at to just ‘Stay out!’.

And he could have dealt with the pain those words had caused him if it weren’t for the fact that not only had the older teenagers somehow caught onto the fact that he could actively shield against their unconscious thoughts but the younger children had taken to imitating the people they saw as their role models. So he had done what they had demanded and he had shielded his own mind from their thoughts more and more until both the strain of having to do so – he was not Emma Frost whose mutation seemed to have been turned more inwards and who had been better at shielding than at reading people, in fact he was the complete opposite of the deceased White Queen – and the fact that suddenly nothing had felt real anymore had caused him to become both sleep deprived and incapable of functioning properly.

It had started to feel more and more like some kind of nightmare without an end, like a really bad trip due to an odd cocktail of medicines and alcohol or like he had a particularly nasty fever which made him hallucinate. There was no way out, no way to see the difference between what was real and what was not. Or more: he hadn’t been able to see who was real and who was not. Everyone he met – and that became more and more rare as it had seemed to him as if the real people had started to stay out of his way – hadn’t felt real and he had perceived them as little more than a conjuration of his mind.

It was after almost three weeks of completely shielding from everything that he realised that he couldn’t take it anymore. Due to the feverishly images and the lack of contact to what he perceived as the real world, he had started to lose his grip on reality. And in such a way that he had started to become both tired due to the fact that he hadn’t been capable of realising if he was asleep or not and sick due to the fact that he had nearly lost all grip on what he had always seen as reality.

The moment he had realised both the fact that going on the way he had would end badly for him and the fact that no one in his fantasy world seemed to realise that he wasn’t exactly alright, he had realised that he needed to leave. As soon as he could.

What had once been his house – and for a short time his home – had become the safe place for other mutants as he had hoped it would become. But it was no safe place for him. Not anymore.

So in a last attempt to regain whatever sanity he had left he had contacted some old teachers of him who were tenured at universities in England, he had explained his situation with his paralysation in his lower back and legs and he had explained that due to circumstances he needed to leave America ASAP. They had been more than willing to have him in their department.

It hadn’t taken long after that to make sure that he had some lodgings once he arrived; a nice apartment for three or four persons on the ground floor fitted so he could move around with his wheelchair – sometimes it was nice to be of old money, it meant things were always arranged faster – and he had hired a house keeper to look after both him and the apartment.

He had left two days after he had arranged everything, a small bag filled with the items that had held the most sentimental value for him, some cloths and the more important documents on his lap. Some of the students had seen him leave but no one had come after him. That had hurt him, but it had just confirmed what he had already suspected: they didn’t care enough about him to want him around.

He had slowly released his tight control over his shields – afraid that either Erik or Raven would feel him if he had released them too quickly – until the people around him had started to feel real again and he had finally been able to breath freely.

He hadn’t looked back when the cab he had hired to bring him to the nearest international airport had left the mansion and North Salem behind.

**oOo**

It was during a lecture about the effect of multiple gene pairs on the hair colour, the mutations which could happen with these genes and the effect mutations like these could have in the long run that he felt two slightly familiar minds he hadn’t felt in a rather long time. They approached rather rapidly, as if determined, but he shut their presence out almost unconsciously and he kept talking even as the two bodies belonging with the minds – slightly older than the last time he had seen them and both deceivingly human looking – entered the lecture hall even as a rather flustered concierge tried to stop them.

He ignored them both in favour of continuing his lecture, he didn’t even greet them as he would have greeted other people who arrived late or who joined the lecture if they needed to talk to him afterwards. He skilfully ignored the spikes of surprise he could feel from every single person present.

He finished his lecture nearly an hour later with the obligatory literature for the next lecture and a wish for them to have a happy weekend. He removed the slides from the projector and wheeled away from the table containing the slide projector so he could make room for the next lecturer. It had been his last lecture of the day, which was both a blessing – he needed to mark quite some papers – but also a curse as he had no excuse to make his two visitors wait for him. Or make them leave him alone altogether.

He sighed softly, closed his bag and shut the metal clasps and turned towards said visitors. It appeared to be time to face the music.

**oOoOoOo**

The first thing they had noticed as soon as they had entered the lecture hall was that there seemed to be no mutants present, except for the one they had come for; the one that held most of their attention. He had changed so little. His hair was still mostly brownish and still styled the same way as the last time they had seen him though it seemed as if it had started thinning a bit. His eyes were still blue, intelligent and far more perceptive and piercing than they should be. And he still wore clothes meant for professors decades older than he was. He was also still forced to rely on a wheelchair. His shoulders had broadened significantly however and there were more lines on his face, and not only the laugh lines and crow feet he should have had. He had hardened and aged more than he should have and she couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to the somewhat naïve and idealistic brother who had loved life, fun and laughing more than anything in the world.

She was quite sure that he knew that they were there – he had always known when someone came near him – but the fact that he didn’t even greet them or look away from his lecture towards them hurt more than she had expected. Her brother had _always_ greeted people, no matter their relationship with him or if he knew them or not. The fact that he didn’t greet them and that she didn’t feel his presence in her mind seemed just wrong to her.

He kept talking about whatever he was talking about but neither she nor Magneto paid much attention to what he said. She was sure that the both of them were too busy taking in the one person that meant the most to them and whom had disappeared suddenly a little over three years ago.

She only realised he was done with his lecture when the students around them started to pack their items and started to leave the lecture hall. She shared a short look with her companion before both stood and made their way over towards Charles just as he snapped his bag shut and turned around towards them.

“Mystique, Magneto,” he greeted them both curtly.  
She would admit that _he_ of all people using that name hurt. She had always believed – and secretly enjoyed – the fact that he would always be the one person to use her real name and not her chosen name, no matter how often she had demanded for him to use her chosen name.

Magneto opened his mouth to respond to the greeting but a sharp look and two raised fingers made him close it again.  
“Not here,” Charles stated shortly as he started to move the wheelchair towards the exit with an ease that bespoke of long years of using both the chair and a good grasps on the layout of the building, “we can talk at my place.”

They followed after him, first out of the faculty building – which took longer than she would have liked due to the fact that Charles was stopped more than once by either students who wanted to ask something about one of his courses or by colleagues who wanted to either discus, ask or share something with him – and then off of the campus entirely. He led them past a couple of important looking buildings and large, open parks before they finally stopped in front of a large, clearly expensive apartment building.

He waved cheerily at the doorman – the type that functioned both as guard, concierge and bouncer for the rich and famous – who sat inside as the man stood from his spot and opened the door for her brother. Charles greeted the man and asked promptly about the man’s hip which had apparently gotten damaged in a fight recently, his wife’s new job, his children and his pets before he even thought of moving on. The worst part was that she couldn’t even feel annoyed about it because that was just the type of person her brother was. He wasn’t stalling, nor was he just being polite. He genuinely wanted to know.

They finally moved on from the hallway and towards the first – and only – numbered door on the ground floor some ten minutes later. Charles rummaged around his bag in search for apparently his keys as he removed them with a triumphant ‘aha!’ a couple of seconds later before he opened the door swiftly and wheeled inside.

They followed after him into yet another hallway where he deposited his bag against the wall and hung his jacket on a low hanging coat rack. He motioned for them to do the same and to close the door behind them but he didn’t make a move to leave the hallway.

“I strongly suggest staying in this form and I caution you against using your powers,” he stated with a warning look towards them, “my housekeeper is not aware of mutants beyond what the rest of the world knows and I rather not have to call an ambulance to have her towed away due to a heart attack.”  
She was about to protest – more out of a sense of principle than because she felt the need to change back to her natural form – but a stern look made her shut her mouth.  
“My _home_ , my rules,” he told her sharply. She nodded meekly, not quite sure what to think of the person her brother had turned into. When had he changed so much? And why? What had happened to the cheerful, flirty and happy-go-lucky brother that made him turn into this?

A hard look passed over his face and his eyes seemed to darken slightly but he turned around, opened the door that gave way into what appeared to be a rather large living room.  
He gestured for them to sit down on one of the two couches present before he wheeled himself towards a large fauteuil and hoisted himself up from the wheelchair and into the comfortable chair.

He relaxed back into the chair but he stayed silent. He didn’t start with the usual pleasantries, he didn’t ask them why they were in England and he didn’t ask after the school. He just kept his silence and seemed to be waiting for something.

They didn’t have to wait long as a door somewhere behind them opened and the sound of someone moving into the room could be heard.  
An elderly woman with her greying hair put up into a neat bun and the most typical English elder lady outfit in the oddest shade of soft pink she had ever seen made her way past them, a serving tray with what appeared to be a tea set on it in her hands.

“Good afternoon, professor,” she greeted him kindly as she poured him a cup of tea and handed it to him, “what can I get your guests?”  
“I’m afraid all I can get you is either tea or water at this hour,” Charles told them before he took a sip of his tea, “and the tea is as wonderful as always, my dear.”  
She felt Magneto go rigid next to her but she ignored him in favour of asking for some water for him and some tea for her. The woman poured some tea in the second tea cup and handed her the cup a couple of seconds later before bustling out of the room, only to return with a glass of water which she handed to her companion.

“I’ll need to get some groceries from the stores, will you be alright while I’m gone?” she asked Charles, “do you need anything?”  
“I’ll be just fine,” he reassured her fondly, “and I’m good, thank you.”  
She nodded and straightened some pillows on the other couch before she made her way towards the hallway. The heard the sound of the front door closing not too long after that.

Charles took a sip of his tea before he placed his cup back down on its dish and turned his full attention on them.  
“Why are you here?” he asked them. She couldn’t quite catch his tone of voice or the emotions behind them but it lacked the curiosity it should have had. Not for the first time that day did she wonder why her brother had changed.

His eyes once again darkened but before she could comment on it, Magneto answered his question.  
“We need your help,” he stated bluntly.  
Charles’ face closed off almost immediately and all emotions present – the few that she had been able to recognize as the rest had been too alien on his face – disappeared. He places his cup and dish carefully next to his chair on a small, dark wooden table before he placed his hands neatly in his lap. His movements were stiff and she couldn’t help but wonder why he had done it.

“No,” was all he said.  
“No?” Magneto asked incredulous but she noticed the first signs of him becoming angry, “you haven’t even heard why we need your help.”  
“Whatever is it, the answer stays ‘no’,” her brother stated mildly. She wondered where the habit to cross one leg over the other and to take a sip of his tea had disappeared to, because that would have been his standard behaviours after turning someone down.  
“And I must say that I rather resent the idea that everyone is allowed to change except for me,” he added almost indifferently.

It took her a couple of seconds before she realised that he had responded to her thoughts.  
“Stay out of my mind!” she stated somewhat harshly.  
“What is that sentence you’ve always liked to throw into my face whenever someone showed off their ability even if it would end with either them or others hurt? Oh yes, _mutant and proud_ ,” he mocked her, his tone patronising, “I’m just doing what you have always encouraged in others: using my abilities.”  
She couldn’t help but gape at him in a poor imitation of a fish even as he turned his attention back to Magneto.

“The answer will stay no, no matter what reasons you might have to ask for my help,” he stated firmly, “and I would like for you to leave and forget both my location and my very existence and I’ll give you the courtesy of doing the same.”  
That made her close her mouth with an almost audible click and she couldn’t help the pain and anger that shot through her.

“Why would we want to do that?” Magneto snapped angrily, “and why won’t you just listen?”  
Charles rubbed the bridge of his nose briefly before his fingers moved towards the crease between his eyebrows. It was clear to her that he was developing a headache.

“Because I’m not a some dancing monkey you can take out of storage to let it show off its’ tricks whenever you need it,” he said sharply, “I’ve had enough experience with that from my youth and I’ll not be forced to act like that ever again. I’ve finally found a place where I’m appreciated for what I know and what I can do for the next generation and not for either my money, my name, my appearances, my innate abilities, my ancestry or whatever political or academical influence people can obtain through me. Why would I leave that behind in exchange for being once again used and thrown aside?”

“We found a telepath,” she blurted out in a last attempt to get his attention. She didn’t want to leave and forget about him. She missed him!  
“No, you miss the person you want me to be. Not the person I am,” he told her bitterly, “and I’ll give you some advice. Take her back to where you found her and forget about her. Before your actions break her beyond repair.”

“What kind of advice is that?” Magneto barked before he suddenly leaned forward, his sharp eyes gleaming with something dangerous, “what did the humans do to you?”  
Charles laughed hollowly at his question.  
“They never did anything to me,” he stated with a tired air around him, “if you want to point fingers at someone I suggest you consider the fact that at least three fingers always point towards oneself.”

Magneto stiffened before he choked out, “you forgave me for that!”  
“No actually, I never did. Just because I accepted you back didn’t mean that I either forgave you or forget about what you – both of you – did to me,” he stated primly as he once again picked up his cup and finished his tea, “once something is broken it’ll never be whole again. Nor will it be as valuable as it used to be. And make no mistake, I broke.”  
he turned towards her as he played with his cup, “the changes you seem to focus so much on only exist because I had to repair myself. And contrary to what some people might think, I do learn from my mistakes. And I’ll not make the mistake of accepting either of you back again. The first time you broke me, the second time you nearly destroyed me. There won’t be a third time.”

He placed the cup back on its dish and focused his attention back on Magneto.  
“Now, I truly suggest you leave before I _make_ you,” he stated firmly, “and that is not an empty threat.”  
They shared a look and rose from their seats. The man in front of them had changed and they had no choice but to leave him be, for now.

“You know that you’re always welcome to come back, right?” she told him softly. No matter what he had said, she _did_ miss him. He was her brother and she would always want him in her life, no matter what happened.  
He laughed almost bitterly, “nice to know that I’m always welcome in the house I _own_.”  
They shared another look, a shocked one this time.  
“But don’t worry,” he said gently, “I’ll neither kick you out nor will I stop the money I’ve been donating to the school. It doesn’t matter that _I_ won’t return, as long as that school is a safe haven for mutants nothing will change.”

“We will see ourselves out,” Magneto stated but it was clear from his tone of voice that he rather stayed where he was, “goodbye, Charles.”  
And they walked away.

It was just as they were about to close the front door that they heard it.  
“Goodbye Erik, Raven,” was stated softly in their minds. It sounded as final as the click of the door falling into its locked position behind them.


End file.
